[Active/ OPEN!]
Characters: Matthew Williams
Location: Kitchen
Time: Early Morning (6 am - whenever) Feel free to set a thread whenever. He'll be cooking right up to class starting.
Content: When Matt is upset, Matt cooks. Alot. Quite alot.
Warnings: Emotional cooking. Overuse of maple. Holding your syrup hostage.
It wasn't Alfred being rude or ignoring him. It wasn't him learning to fly while Matt still couldn't keep himself from turning off every power in a half a meter. It wasn't being homesick, being lonely despite his new friends, or any one thing. It was all of them. All of them twisted in one big ball in his mind until he couldn't even try to sleep anymore. He slipped out of bed, yanked on his glasses, and took the stairs down to the kitchen two at a time.
He didn't bother to think about what he was making. Cookies were as fair game as pancakes and sausage were at this point. Soon a pile of food was littering a table and he had poured nearly half a bottle of syrup on a stack of pancakes and was methodically working his way through them with one hand. The other hand was carefully stirring the Hollandaise sauce for those Eggs Benedict. Another batch of cookies was already cooking in the oven. Water for tea was boiling on the back burner yet again, having burned his way through a whole pot already.
[OOC: For those who dont' want to log or dun care, assume he's gonna cook pretty much everything you can think of and all those requests people come up with. He doesn't care what or how much he's cooking at this point. Just stress relief]
Location: Kitchen
Time: Early Morning (6 am - whenever) Feel free to set a thread whenever. He'll be cooking right up to class starting.
Content: When Matt is upset, Matt cooks. Alot. Quite alot.
Warnings: Emotional cooking. Overuse of maple. Holding your syrup hostage.
It wasn't Alfred being rude or ignoring him. It wasn't him learning to fly while Matt still couldn't keep himself from turning off every power in a half a meter. It wasn't being homesick, being lonely despite his new friends, or any one thing. It was all of them. All of them twisted in one big ball in his mind until he couldn't even try to sleep anymore. He slipped out of bed, yanked on his glasses, and took the stairs down to the kitchen two at a time.
He didn't bother to think about what he was making. Cookies were as fair game as pancakes and sausage were at this point. Soon a pile of food was littering a table and he had poured nearly half a bottle of syrup on a stack of pancakes and was methodically working his way through them with one hand. The other hand was carefully stirring the Hollandaise sauce for those Eggs Benedict. Another batch of cookies was already cooking in the oven. Water for tea was boiling on the back burner yet again, having burned his way through a whole pot already.
[OOC: For those who dont' want to log or dun care, assume he's gonna cook pretty much everything you can think of and all those requests people come up with. He doesn't care what or how much he's cooking at this point. Just stress relief]